


The Smile Remains Unbroken

by Just_Another_Gamer



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Eye Trauma, My First Fanfic, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Gamer/pseuds/Just_Another_Gamer
Summary: The pain grows all too much for the gambler to handle, both from the killers and the survivors he wanted to trust.Basically: aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just wanna snap?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	The Smile Remains Unbroken

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!! Welcome to my first fanfic! I,,,, don't know how to use this website, and I type all of this up on my phone. My apologies for any spelling errors, I just really have some muse for one (1) mans and his name is Ace Visconti.

Once again, he stumbled towards the campfire, bloody and bruised from the last trials torture. The Leatherface was mid-mori on him when Claudette had boldly came around with a flashlight to stop him. That didn't help the pain throbbing in his skull from the hammer to the head, but he appreciated her nonetheless. It's too bad that his sunglasses were shattered from the hit. Casting the mental image of them aside, he kept the botanist in mind. She was one of the only people to still be so polite, even after so much bloodshed. That small smile she gave survivors as she patched their wounds was something he'd always have stuck in his head. A blessing, really. He wished she knew how much of a fire it lit into his heart.

Though he was just at the treeline, the arguing of David and Meg were booming, not at all helping the migraine he currently had. Such loudmouths, the two were. Dwight was between them, trying to calm them down. The poor Leader... He shouldn't have to deal with their antics so often, but at this point it was just another normal "day" at the fire.

Speaking of the flames, he couldn't help but wince without the shades to protect his vision. The damage he had gotten years and years ago to the eye had been nothing short of a miracle, apparently. The doctors informed him he would never be able to pilot after the incident, a stroke of misfortune that led him back to Argentina, starting that spiral of despair. He shook his head and turned away, gentle footsteps being overrun by the shouting that he could have sworn hammered into his brain. Despite the pain, that dull smile was plastered to his cheeks.

Darkness. In and out, the blood loss heavy as he stumbled along the woods, knowing full well it wouldn't matter if he died out here. At least that was a plus of the realm. No longer fearing death itself, no matter how many times it looks you in the eye as it slices you free of the torture, even just for a moment. A simple misstep later and he found himself on the ground, surrounded by the dead trees so painfully still despite the chill in the air... Or was that just his body running cold due to the lack of blood? It was hard to tell.

He rolled himself over, staring up at the false stars in the sky as they shone down, mocking him, laughing at the hope he so desperately clung to. A gentle, weary sigh escaped him, yet that smile clung to the edges of his cheeks. Even as the tears formed in his deep brown orbs.

When had he started crying? How long has he been laying here, contemplating escape? Most importantly, did the others from the trial notice that he never came back? He tried to shrug off that lingering fear that no one would care, though they hit especially hard when they came from Tapp's mouth. The ex-police officer had gone through so much in his life, but that fateful moment at the campfire where only Nea and Meg were there to see? It had hurt. And since, those words weighed down on him.

Another breath, this time a shallow and shaky one had slipped through his smiling lips. The trials had been rougher. It wasn't Tapp's fault- it was simply the realm throwing unblockable hits at them. Never did he blame Tapp for finally snapping.

A hand slowly came up to his face, gentle giants wiping away tears still spilling from his eyes. Sliding said hand up to his hair, feeling over the wound with dirty fingers by accident in the process. That wasn't the best idea in hindsight. The hand was pulled away quick, hot blood still spilling from the open gash. When had he lost his hat? Damn Leatherface and his knock out.

Those familiar black voids dotted his vision of the star speckled sky. Soon, Visconti. You'll wake back up perfectly fine.

That's what he told himself.

Yet time and time again, trials gone bad, the team going sour, it was slowly overwhelming him and his signature smile. All until he found himself in the woods once again. That trial hurt more than physically.

Because seeing that disappointed gaze from Claudette when he returned to the campfire was more punishment than any killer could have ever given him. He had tried to argue that there was nothing he could do about the camping killer. She hadn't responded.

Resting against a tree in the woods, he let out a quiet sigh, burrowing his head in his hands, knocking off the White Panama he wore. Don't lose your smile now, he told himself. Keep going. For them. But it was hard to continue telling himself that when even the other survivors all seemed to be against him. They were losing that hope he had them clung to for so long. And when one goes down, they all fall like bowling pins.

They had fallen. And so had Ace, in a sense. The seasoned gambler had never felt so much despair all in one sitting. The survivors hated him. The killers, they simply wanted them dead. Who else was there to turn to?

Easy. The whispers that have been bugging him. Ever since that knock out from Leatherface, there has been a tingle in the back of his mind. A gentle voice beckoning him, one he's never heard. For the most part, he's ignored it. They don't always tell of nice things. But now, they speak of a promise to be happy. To never need worry of the others. To be "free."

“But what does free mean?” The whispers don't give him a clear answer.

“Who are you?” Isn't it obvious, they shoot back.

“Why me?”

And suddenly, the whispers grow silent.

Empty. His mind hasn't felt this empty for too many trials to count now. That gentle buzz in his mind had kept him company when no one else would. The Argentinian licked his cracked lips, hands gently dusting off the panama that had tipped off before.

The silence was driving him mad. After a few minutes of trying to relax, he caved.

“.... come back-”

That's all that needed to be said. The black tendrils belonging to none other than The Entity shot out, latching around his limbs to keep him where he was against the tree. The hat had gently fallen to his lap as a shadow overcast him.

Above stood the glorious creature in all of his devine power. Picture perfect in his eyes, from the gentle spikes in his hair to the orange tongue that he had to hold back on making too lewd of a comment on.

He kneeled down with a sadistic smirk. Finally. Of all the survivors He had wanted to break, the one who wore a smile even now seemed throughly gone. Gentle fingers tugged down on Ace's lips.

“There is no need to smile anymore. Why don't you give in? There is no point.” His voice boomed, yet his lips never moved. The being was in his mind.

It was too late to ever want to go back.

“You're in my head. You know why I refuse to stop. Why bother asking?” The Spanish-Italian boldly retorted.

It roused a light chuckle from the other, only for those delicate hands of His to grab him by the chin and harshly pull him forward. The one pulled away, nails going sharp as they approached one of his two brown eyes. The one that wasn't light sensitive. The one that didn't cause him so much pain for years.

Ace tried to struggle against the binds holding him still, the smile straining on his face. He willed his lids to close, yet they wouldn't listen. Not even as the nails dug into the sclera, blood and fluids leaking from the now eye.

“Don't you want to be happy..? Let me do this for you, my little lucky charm.”

Those words echoed in his mind, all attempts to struggle ceasing. The man couldn't bring himself to move, even as the other moved close. Too close. That tongue dragged up his cheek, leaving a tingle in his skin and saliva in its wake. Just as the fleshy yet bulbous tongue hit his damaged eye, his senses cut out for just a moment. It flickered, the feeling of the tongue against him, the pain in his eye only for it all to be cut away in an instant.

It happened so fast.

The rebirth of man was truly astounding.

“...Ah. You're missing something.. Important.” The Entity roused his foggy mind, eye finally opening once again to see none other than the shattered sunglasses from the trial with bubba, somehow a perfect fit over his face. The tendrils that held him down receded into the soft dirt below him.

The being beckoned for Ace to follow, standing up and walking into the land of dying trees with no hesitation. He followed without question, silent the entire way. "Silent." It's not like it mattered now. The whispers in his clouded mind proved that he would never truly be alone.

Without realizing it, he stepped into a pond, water filling the loafer around his left foot. He stepped out, not before earning another heartfelt chuckle from the controller of this realm.

“Gaze into the depths of the lake. Find who you are now. Be sure to remember.. you will be happy with this change, no matter how much you regret it.” He spat the words out like venom, standing beside the reborn one.

At first, the broken gaze went towards The Entity, yet the reflection in the water was broken, a mess compared to his own.

What stared back was his old self, banging on the water until the man blinked.

Now he saw himself. He had grown taller, though his suit was unfashionably tattered. Gloves covered his enlarged hands, to leave no fingerprints behind. The shirt below his damask jacket seemed a lot dirtier, no longer having its floral pattern to it. Instead, that was replaced with various deep red stains. It only now occured to him that there was a slash in both the shirt and jacket right where his missing kidney would have been, along with a burn where the hooks normally impaled them.

Not anymore. Not to him. The others can suffer now.

His gaze traveled down to the damaged jeans, still just as tight against his body as they used to be. Tears littered the back of the legs.. How unstylish.

Lastly, he finally tore his gaze to his face. Only one eye poked through the shattered glasses. That smile of his, though a bit more torn than usual, remained on his face. His mouth, aside from the large, crooked grin, seemed normal overall. Even the Panama had grown with him, the white had dawning a nice pink feather... Though his gaze was locked to that missing eye, into seemingly an endless void, one that he nearly stuck his fingers into.

But out popped a snake. A sign of a backstabber.

That's what he was now, wasn't he? Without a word, he left the fellow survivors behind for this....  
No.  
They left HIM. OVER. AND OVER.

Leather scraped against leather as he clenched his fists. He was already sick of waiting.

They wouldn't trust him to play a simple card game- oh, he'll show them who not to trust. They will regret losing him.

She will regret ignoring him.

Out came the cards right from under his sleeve, three with sharpened edges, ready to deal some damage up close and personal. To watch them suffer. To get revenge on all of the pain they've ever put him and his strained lips through.

Because despite it all, the smile remains unbroken.


End file.
